


in sickness and in health (and everywhere in between)

by WattStalf



Series: cos your love's got the best of me (baby, you're making a fool of me) [14]
Category: Baccano!
Genre: F/M, Gunplay, PWP, Sick Character, Vaginal Sex, for like half a second but it's still there, ladd is an overbearing caretaker and lua is a tricky motherfucker, minor cold though, oh boy the general warning for them being themselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:52:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7486941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>No, I've promised you that I'm the only one who gets to kill you, and when you're sick, that means I have to take extra good care to make sure you get better. If you were to get </i>worse<i>...you could even get </i>pneumonia<i>, and then you really might die and I won't allow that!</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	in sickness and in health (and everywhere in between)

**Author's Note:**

> A headcanon discussed with me and my fiance. if Lua gets sick, Ladd freaks the fuck out because "omfg what if she die nonono", and I turned it into porn because I wanted to explore her playful, teasing side more, and the fact that she could totally get him to do whatever she wanted. Also there's a few seconds of gunplay.

As Ladd paces back and forth beside the bed, Lua holds back a sigh, but then she feels a cough, and she can't hold that back. When she coughs, delicately into her hand, he jumps, and then he is kneeling at her side, a hand to her forehead. When he does this, she can't hold back her sigh anymore, but he doesn't seem to notice.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and she's never heard him sound so worried over something so minor before. Ever since she started coming down with this cold, he'd been completely freaked out over it, and though it is a minor cold, and though she's told him time and again that he doesn't have anything to worry about, that hasn't seemed to sink in yet.

“I told you, I'm fine,” she says.

“But you _coughed_ ,” he argues. “And you're not fine, you're sick!”

“But I'm still just fine,” she replies, and she nearly laughs at the way he's fretting over her. He's never been this concerned for anyone or anything else, as far as she can tell, but from the way he's acting, you'd think the world was about to end.

“Sick isn't fine, baby,” he practically whines. “What if you're dying?”

“I'm not _dying_.”

“Goddamn right you're not! Not yet, and not to something like this!” Any time she shows any sign of illness, he gets like this. Hell, she's sure he would get like this if she tripped and skinned her knee, because he's protective. She can't blame him, considering how important it is to the both of them that she dies by his hand, but he does tend to go overboard about it.

He moves his hand down from her forehead, cupping her cheek instead and giving her the most loving look. “You know I'm only concerned because I love you, right, angel? I couldn't let anything happen to you before your time. You know that, right?” Of course she does, but when he's close like this, when he's looking at her like that and talking about her death, her mind begins to wander rather easily.

If he lowers his hand just a little bit more, he can wrap it around her throat and squeeze and not let up until she's barely conscious, and he could even keep going after that, but she knows he won't today. Even so, the idea thrills her, and he's still looking at her like she's the most precious thing in the world to him, and she can't help it; she wants him, and badly. Her breathing grows heavy and she lowers her lashes, biting her lip.

“Ladd,” she says softly.

“What is it, doll? Are you feeling worse? Do you need something?” He looks worried again, but she gives him a slight smile, leaning in to kiss him. “What are you doing?” he asks, backing out of it before her lips can brush his.

“I thought we could...”

“We could what?” he asks, but it only takes a half a second for him to figure out what she means. “ _That_? Oh, no, Lua, you _know_ we can't do anything like that right now, it'd just be too much for you in your condition!”

“But, _Ladd_ ,” she protests, and he holds up his hand to stop her.

“No, no,” he says. “No, I've promised you that I'm the only one who gets to kill you, and when you're sick, that means I have to take extra good care to make sure you get better. If you were to get _worse_...you could even get _pneumonia_ , and then you really might die and I won't allow that!”

She sighs in disappointment, because it seems that Ladd is going to stick to his guns about this one, but she is only disappointed for a moment before she decides not to give up just yet. He may be stubborn, but she can be stubborn to, and Ladd possesses only one weakness, and because she  _is_ the weakness, she has learned how to exploit it rather well. Sighing again, she pouts just a little bit and says, “I guess you're right.”

“Of course I'm right!” He nods, and looks so goddamn sure of himself that it's very hard not to laugh.

“I just thought it might make me feel better...” she says sadly. “But, what do I know? Right, Ladd?”

Now he hesitates, and she can see it in his face. “You thought it...might make you feel better, dollface?”

“Silly, right?”

“I...” Ladd stares at her, his mouth twitching slightly while he thinks, and she knows, in a few moments, she will have her way. All she has to do is play her cards right. “Well, I don't know about _that_ , angel, I mean...stranger things have happened. Do you _really_ think it might make ya feel better?”

“Oh, don't worry about it,” she says softly, looking down. “I don't even want to anymore, anyway. You were right.”

“Wha- Lua!” Ladd's beginning to look frustrated and confused, his eyes darkening. “Just a minute ago, you _said_...”

“But what if it makes me feel worse?”

“And what if it makes you feel better?”

“I don't know about that,” she said, and for the first time since she's begun this act, she gives him a small, playful smile.

“Oh,” he says, when he sees this. “So, ya don't want it anymore? You changed your mind? We'll just see about that, won't we, my little angel?” He asks this sweetly, but the look on his face is anything but sweet and it thrills her to no end. _This_ is the Ladd she's madly in love with; the one who shows concern for her is very nice and she appreciates him, but the one with a fierce look in his eyes, the one who looks so positively _dangerous_ is the one that she wants.

She doesn't have a chance to respond before he's on top of her, pinning her down and holding her wrists so tightly that she's sure they will bruise. Biting her lip, Lua sighs contentedly, and he grinds against her to show her how hard he already is. Of course he wanted it to, he's saying; he was just holding back for her sake, but he can't hold back anymore. She always knows just what to say to get what she wants from him.

He kisses her for a long time, and then down her neck, before letting her up just long enough to get her out of her nightgown and then pinning her down again. Lua squirms underneath him and he grins at her, muttering something about how she's never been patient, about how he loves her for it, and about how he's going to make it all better if he has to kill her to do it.  _That_ really excites her, and she gasps and whimpers, arching her back to grind up against him herself, proving just how impatient she really is.

“Well, I'm not _gonna_ kill you,” he says, shaking his head. “Not today, it's not gonna come to that, I'm just saying I _would_ if I had to. Did you know that? I would never even _dream_ of doing it too soon or not making it absolutely perfect, but if I thought there was a chance you were going to be taken from me if I didn't? Well, some things don't always go to plan, but _you_ are not going to be killed by anyone or anything but _me_.”

If he doesn't fuck her soon, she is going to lose her mind, and she nearly cries with relief and anticipation when he backs off of her to unzip his pants. He pulls out his cock and drops back down, pressing up against her and teasing her with it. His eyes are shining with excitement, and he leans down to catch her lips in a kiss as he jerks his hips, pushing himself inside of her in one quick motion.

Her voice is light and breathy as she calls out to him, “ _Ladd_ ,” and he looks down at her with a look that borders on ferocity as he says, “What is, Lua, my  _angel_ ?” All she can do is moan softly and he says, “Oh, you can't even talk,  _can_ you? Alright, dollface, we don't need to talk!”

He starts to drop one of his hands to her throat but he hesitates, remembering that she had mentioned it being sore and scratchy when she first started to come down with this bothersome cold. No, he won't tease her like that tonight, which is disappointing, but he makes it all up to her when he reaches onto the bedside table. She doesn't know if the gun is loaded or not when he presses the cool metal to her forehead, but not knowing is what makes this fun.

Her voice breaks when she moans, and she rises up to meet his rhythmic thrusts as he trails the gun along her face, teasing her with it just like he knows she loves. His finger squeezes the trigger and she hopes against all hope that he will pull it, that it will be loaded, that just as she comes, he'll end her life once and for all, but then she's there, tipping over the edge of pleasure and his finger does not even twitch.

Not even after she's come down from her orgasm and he's resumed fucking her, but she's come to her senses enough now to know that it will not be today. It isn't until he's getting close himself that his finger moves at all, and it is only to relax his hold on the trigger, and then he's tossed the gun aside, nuzzling his face against her neck and muttering nearly incoherently about how beautiful she is, about how beautiful she is going to be when he kills her, about how he loves her more than anything else in this whole world and how she's going to be his absolute favorite to kill.

She's heard it all before, a thousand times over, and that still doesn't make it any less thrilling and she doubts she'll ever be bored as long as he's around. When he comes, he makes a sound that borders on pathetic, but she finds it endearing because she knows it's a sound he only makes for her, and even though his arms are shaking with the effort, he holds himself up and does not collapse on top of her even as his body probably urges him to.

Instead, Ladd manages to roll beside her when he's done, and hold her close to him and ask her if that was good and if that really did make her feel better. One thing she's really gotta admire about him is that he's not once expressed concern about getting sick himself, and has stayed close to her even though it's put him at risk of catching her little cold.

“Much better,” she whispers, and it isn't a lie; she does feel a lot more relaxed now, and satisfied, and pleased to have gotten her way. Ladd tightens his hold on her and she snuggles up to him, the smile that she saves only for him pulling at her lips, and thinks that maybe now she'll get the rest that he's been insisting she needs since she first started showing signs of illness.

Ladd's breathing grows heavy and even, and she knows he's nearing sleep himself. He's not rested a bit since she came down with her cold and, really, he needs it more than her and probably needed something to help relax him more than her. She sighs in contentment, glad that everything has worked out so perfectly, and then she feels a familiar itch in her throat and she coughs.

“I _knew_ this was a bad idea!” he groans, awakened immediately. “I knew it was going to make you feel worse, now what are we going to do?” Lua doesn't mean to laugh, but she can't help herself.

 


End file.
